


The Secret

by junko



Series: 'Tails' of Zabimaru [16]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While fishing by the riverside during Renji's weekend break from Academy, Captain Kyouraku spills one of the great secrets of the Academy's zanpaktou (while skillfuly avoiding another)...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret

Renji lounged in the shade of a hinoki cypress tree, while Kyōraku fiddled with the fishing pole. 

They’d followed the main street to a stone bridge and then turned off-road to walk along a narrow riverbank. The river itself was no more than twenty feet wide, but it was swift—rushing in a breakneck race from the mountains to the sea. Water hissed and sprayed noisily as it galloped over rocks. Ferns and bracken clung to the rocky hillside and the air smelled of evergreens. They ventured uphill until coming to an outcropping of boulders and whitened exposed tree roots.

Watching the captain now, Renji suspected that Kyōraku had never caught a fish in his life. But Renji didn’t interfere or offer advice. For one, the captain seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, and, second, the purpose of this outing clearly had nothing to do with catching any food.

Apparently, they were just “fishing” to pass the time, and to have an excuse to drink all day long. Kyōraku’s brother had, in fact, coughed up the good vintage—four bottles of it. The captain was already half way through the first. Renji, meanwhile, was trying to pace himself. It was difficult because the sake was of such fine quality; it tasted so good and smooth going down, it was easy to lose track of just how much was consumed.

“That ought to do it,” Kyōraku announced cheerfully before crawling up the steep riverbank to plop down beside Renji. He lay back on a flat lichen covered rock and took his hat off to fan his face, as though the effort had exhausted him. 

“Sure,” Renji smiled sloppily. Silently, he added, _as long as you’re not actually expecting results._

“Oh dear,” Kyōraku looked up at him from the grass, “You’re sounding a bit wobbly, Mr. Renji. Perhaps you shouldn’t have changed into your Academy uniform. I would hate to be responsible for your first public drunkenness arrest.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be, sir. Honor goes to the Eleventh. They also get my first ‘resisting arrest,’ ‘assaulting an officer,’ ‘breech of arrest’ and, my personal favorite: ‘escape from confinement.’” Renji counted out each on his fingers. “And those were just the official charges. It was a pretty special weekend. I’m thinking I’m kind of lucky I didn’t get court-martialed before enlistment.”

“Indeed,” Kyōraku chuckled. He put his straw hat on his chest and closed his eyes to the bright sunlight filtering through the trees. 

Renji tipped his head back against the tree trunk to look up at the blue sky. “Those four days are such a blur that I’m actually not sure why I never stood for any of that. I suppose it’s down to you though, eh, sir?”

“Me?” Kyōraku feigned innocence, cracking open one eye and pointing to his nose. “Why do you suspect me and not Jūshirō?”

“Because Captain Ukitake has never randomly shown up whenever I’m in danger of expulsion, you have.”

Kyōraku laughed, “You’re far too suspicious, dear boy. Such minor charges never stick in the Eleventh. Most likely what happened is that the arresting officer attempted to get their captain involved, only to discover Zaraki’s unique take on regulations.”

“Which is?”

Kyōraku tucked his hands under his head, “Well, let’s see. In the cases you’re describing, I would guess something along the lines of: ‘if you’re stupid enough to lose to one of mine don’t come crawling to me expecting retribution’ as well as possibly, ‘if they got away that sounds like your problem.’”

Kyōraku had done a good enough impression of the gruff speech of Kenpachi Zaraki that Renji could almost hear the Eleventh’s captain saying those things—only with more swearing. 

The breeze through the pines made a soft whispering sound. Renji took another careful sip of the sake, which turned into a much deeper one when he tasted its sweetness. “Those guys are all nuts. How does Kenpachi maintain any discipline?”

“You met him, didn’t you?”

“If you consider being forcibly kidnapped and carried over his shoulder like a war prize an introduction, sure.”

Kyōraku laughed so uproariously at that it took him several minutes to catch his breath. As he wiped tears from his eyes, he said, “Yes, that sounds about right with Zaraki. As your experience demonstrates, the Kenpachi is a larger than life character, and thus inspires a lot of respect and loyalty. People like to be part of all that excitement --plus, I imagine, as well, a healthy dose of fear keeps everyone in line. Only a fool or a raving madman would intentionally anger Zaraki.”

Renji nodded, watching as sand martins skimmed across the water, snatching bugs from the air. He still wasn’t sure what it said about him that he was constantly being mistaken for a member of the Eleventh during his internship in the Court Guard. Was that some kind of sign about where he’d end up? He’d really gotten along with Ikkaku and Yumichika, but hadn’t he come to Academy to get away from guys like that—from all that rough living? 

Even though it was probably several years away yet, Renji wondered, “How do graduates get sorted into a division? Do the captains review every single enlistee or is it random? I mean, obviously, some divisions like the Fourth and Twelfth are highly specialized, but what about the rest?” 

“Divisions are often looking for very specific personalities, so, yes, either the captain or the lieutenant makes selections based on aptitude and exit exams. For those who don’t stand out, there’s some random assignment.”

“Aptitude, huh?” Renji muttered. “What’s that code for? Social class?”

Kyōraku rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow. He put his hat back on his head, and the bright threads in his pink kimono shimmered in the sunlight. “What’s this now? Are you still stinging from my brother’s unsavory commentary? Believe me, none of that was a reflection on you.”

“Sure, if I were a nobleman’s son, we’d get the exact same assumptions, right? Because I’m sure it’s nothing about me or the way I talk or my tattoos that has everyone thinking I’m your whore,” Renji snarled sarcastically. At Kyōraku’s sharp intake of breath, he realized just how angry he sounded, and, in fact, was. He stared at the sake, as though expecting to see something in the depths of the bowl that had made everything bubble up. Renji set the bowl down on the boulder with a clink. With effort, he relaxed his shoulders and said, “Ignore me, sir. It’s the drink.”

Renji was starting to get hungry and he wanted to distract himself from this sudden veer in the conversation, so he opened up the small basket Kyōraku had procured from the kitchen before they left the inn. He found a nice selection of cold fried chicken and inarizushi, rice stuffed into fried tofu skins. There was also some pickled turnips, as well as matsumaezuke, pickled dried squid. Even a small jug of cool tea was included. Renji started unpacking things. 

Kyōraku continued to watch him, “You’re worried you’re going to automatically end up in the Eleventh because you’re from Inuzuri, is that it?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Renji admitted, chewing a piece of pickled squid. “I liked those guys and all, but I did notice they all came from a certain strata, you know what I mean? Not a lot of fancy upper class sons or daughters in those ranks.”

“You think there are too many nobles' children polluting the ranks?”

“What? 'Polluting'? No,” Renji said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. Did I say that? Shit, how drunk am I?”

Kyōraku laughed heartily again, and accepted the plate Renji had made up for him. “No, no, my dear Mr. Renji, I said that. It is, after all, my opinion. And, I shouldn’t try to foist it on you.” The captain nibbled on some of the cold fried chicken for a while before continuing. “I rather like the people in the Eleventh for the very reasons you’re afraid to be chosen by them—they aren’t typical shinigami. They tend to come from outside the walls, from the Rukongai. In fact, I don’t think any of them have gone through Academy.”

Renji took a long swallow of the ice tea, trying to clear his head. He would have sworn he just heard Kyōraku suggest that there were soldiers in the Gotei 13 who somehow skipped Academy and went straight into service. “You don’t mean that, though; that’s a metaphor or something, right? Because where would you get a zanpaktō, if not at Academy?”

“Well, I suppose your captain could give you an asauchi from the same place that the Academy gets them.”

“What the hell is an asauchi?” Renji asked. “I mean, I’ve held one before, when we went to the human world as part of an elite class field trip—which kind of went to hell in an insane way—but, uh, that’s beside the point. That sword… it wasn’t Zabimaru, even though it kind of worked like a zanpaktō. I mean it sent souls on their way and whatnot.”

“Yes, an asauchi can do all that.”

Renji nodded, filling up his bowl with more tea. “Okay, but what is it? Is that what I’m going to get at graduation?”

“No, you’re going to get Zabimaru. You will walk into the great hall and find him waiting there. You will pick him off the wall and finally be reunited.”

Renji leaned back against the tree trunk to peer at Kyōraku out of the sides of his eyes. “Only I don’t have to wait any more, do I?”

“Probably not,” Kyōraku admitted, as he poured himself more sake. “Not if your little demonstration at Ms. Rukia’s party is any indication.”

“But what about Kira and Momo and my other classmates? Are their zanpaktō inside them or waiting in the great hall? Are they going to end up with those asauchi-things or... what?”

Kyōraku was grinning wryly at Renji from under his hat, his eyes twinkling. “Now, now, this is supposed to be the ‘Great Mystery’ of Academy. If I implied that you could summon your zanpaktō by force of your will, your reistsu, what would keep you in school?”

“Three squares and a bed. Not to mention potential gainful employment after graduation,” Renji said without hesitation.

“Which is precisely why it’s all right that you know, Mr. Renji, but also why we must keep this a secret.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the end of their conversation, but it seemed like a nicely dramatic place to pause for a moment... (and we'll have to wait to see if Renji is sober enough to notice what question Kyouraku never answered.)


End file.
